⸸ 𝕱𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘・𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖒 ⸸

Sick to my gut from the maiming and killing
Not my fault i'm always complaining
Constant blaming for what you did wrong
Will we ever get along?

Bullets flying, piercing skin
Wiping off that plastic grin
Thinking, is this what it'll take to win?

All these disputes, what for?
Why not try to mend,
Problems we tend to ignore
We all know in the end,
There are no winners in a war